I have so many memories of Keith--both sweet and bittersweet. I remember meeting him in the auditorium before school many mornings so he could give me twenty-page letters/manuscripts he had spent the night writing. His writing was smart and insightful--and often painful to read. I never knew what to do--other than listen to what he had to say and read what he was compelled to write--and appreciate it. (I think I still have some of his writing that I have saved all these years.) In my eyes he was a young artist and suffered in ways that artists sometimes do--although I don't think I understood this in high school. We exchanged some letters over the years. His life was hard. I last saw him at the 20th reunion and was so happy to see him. I don't know if he ever found happiness--but I really hope so.